writer block’s cousin.

Depression is Writer Block’s cousin that came for a visit and overstayed its welcome.
Frustrating at best with long periods of aggravation when nothing seems to go according to plan.
Where the pen is in hand but cannot write,
And my mind becomes a slave to the pile of crumpled up paper next to my bed.
Where my mind struggles to stay on one thought but fails to think all together.
The pen becomes the bane of my existence although I know the real problem lays far beyond the ink mark.
Where the words on the paper do not match my thoughts,
And the blood dripping off my legs do not align with my intentions.
When saying I want to get better just leads to another shot of reality and
Actually getting better has an expiration date nearing its deadline.
And yet, all I have to cure this raging epidemic is a faulty trial and error system that
Is persistently accompanied by a bevy of side effects ranging from minor headaches to death.
Writer’s Block is the cousin who does not know how to take a hint while
Exhausting all viable resources; freely making themselves at home.
And just like that, I am evicted.